


These Thorns

by diddlydang



Series: The Ferdibert Collection [4]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Im going to make that a tag too, Language of Flowers, M/M, Oblivious Ferdinand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 05:24:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20558966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diddlydang/pseuds/diddlydang
Summary: The flowers show up whenever an individual feels something so strongly that it stains their skin, revealing to everyone how they feel and what they have gone through. Some people have a garden littered across their skin, an entire lifetime said through petals, and then some only carry a few of these tokens.They are said to be a gift from the Goddess, a way to know what someone thinks or what they feel. People see a certain flower and make judgments. If you were to catch a lily on someone you could know that they have encountered death. A cyclamen and you know that they have experienced great sorrow in their life, or perhaps a painful goodbye that left an open wound open their hearts.The point is, the more flowers you have, the easier it is for people to see you.Ferdinand counts himself unlucky that he's one of those that the greenhouse on his skin has overgrown into something monstrous.





	These Thorns

**Author's Note:**

> OPE i accidentally deleted this anyways im back with more ferdibert

The flowers show up whenever an individual feels something so strongly that it stains their skin, revealing to everyone how they feel and what they have gone through. Some people have a garden littered across their skin, an entire lifetime said through petals, and then some only carry a few of these tokens. 

They are said to be a gift from the Goddess, a way to know what someone thinks or what they feel. People see a certain flower and make judgments. If you were to catch a lily on someone you could know that they have encountered death. A cyclamen and you know that they have experienced great sorrow in their life, or perhaps a painful goodbye that left an open wound open their hearts. 

The point is, the more flowers you have, the easier it is for people to see you. 

Ferdinand counts himself unlucky that he's one of those that the greenhouse on his skin has overgrown into something monstrous.

\---

He wears gloves because he is a nobleman, he tells people. 

_ I wear them because I have weeds even there,  _ he tells himself. 

\---

Ferdinand is groomed from a young age to be the next Prime Minister of the Imperial Empire. This is reflected in many aspects of his life. His need to be perfect, need to surpass Edelgard, his need to learn, and it shows itself on his skin.

The one he is most proud of is the gladiolus spanning his right shoulder. It reminds him that he is brave and strong and courageous even if he trips over the hurdle. It is the one he would be happy to show people so they may see just how determined he is to be good. To be an example for the world. 

He would show people if he didn’t have others.

\---

When Edelgard beats him with a single hit, it is not the pain of the blow that leaves him gasping but the familiar burn of a new flower finding its way to him. The shame of his defeat wells up within him and Ferdinand swears that he feels it condense into a single, horrible point and blossom across his ribcage. 

“Are you alright?” Edelgard asks him, eyebrows dropping in concern when he remains on the ground. “I did not hit you that hard.”

“I merely needed a moment to catch my breath.” He tells her before getting up. He drops the ax in the sand, turning to walk to his room, to see what the Goddess has cursed him with this time. “Apologies, Edelgard. I must take my leave.”

It is a peony. 

Bashful, he knows. 

_ Shameful,  _ he thinks. 

\---

The sting of Edelgard’s ax also sows another seed, one he had been hoping, trying desperately to avoid. 

Foxglove flowers wind up his legs. 

Insecurity slows him down, like weeds catching on his feet, strangling and tripping him. Sending him spiraling. 

\---

Hubert plants many seeds onto Ferdinand’s skin. 

Ferdinand dislikes thinking about the first ones Hubert had cultivated, harsh words raining down like water, horrible roots taking place all over. 

But lately Hubert has been kind to him. The first time it had happened, Hubert telling him that his determination and optimism were some of his finest attributes. Garlic fits itself among the geraniums, courage breaking through his foolishness. 

Anticipation and excitement are spelled out on the back of his neck --Being able to cover his marks is an unexpected benefit of Ferdinand’s long hair-- after Hubert and he finally share tea together. It is the first time they talk to each other over their drinks like adults; friends, even. He likes how the yellow forsythia looks on him and the sight is only made sweeter when he thinks to how Hubert put it there. 

He doesn't think about the feeling in his stomach when his thoughts inevitably wander to Hubert. 

\---

“I wish I had more marks,” Dorothea tells him. “I have so few. I’m jealous of the people out there with practically painted skin.”

_ Take mine _ , he thinks,  _ I have no use for them.  _

“I wish I had less,” He tells her, fingers flexing slightly in his gloves to make sure they’re still covered. “They make me feel exposed.”

She turns to him more fully now, eyebrows raised. “How many  _ do _ you have, Ferdie?”

_ Too many _ .

“I haven’t counted.” He adjusts his hair, knowing that while his collar and cape cover his back, the added layer of hair assures him. “But I do have more than what people usually had.”

“You don’t want people to see them?” Her hand is gentle on his arm, concern fitting itself onto her face. He can’t bear to look at it. The question is a reasonable one, he knows. Ferdinand likes being open with people, likes giving his opinions and exchanging ideas, and yet here he is, staying silent on one of the things people usually showed off.

“If you had your entire life story on your body, would you show people?” He asks her.

“No,” Dorothea agrees with him; he finds it hard that anyone would disagree with him since he put it like that. “No, I suppose I wouldn’t.”

“Exactly.” 

“Would you show Hubert?”

Ferdinand splutters an, “Excuse me?”

She grins at him, white teeth on full display. “Would you show  _ Hubie _ ?” Goddess, she practically _ coos _ at him. 

“I’m sorry, I’m not quite sure I follow.” Hubert? Why would he want to show  _ Hubert _ of all people? Yes, they have been getting along much better these days, but that doesn’t mean he’s about to bear his heart out to him. “Hubert?”

She rolls her eyes at him, expression fond but annoyed. “You’re so oblivious.”

“Uh….” He trails off, not really sure of what to say to that. 

“Don’t think too hard on it Ferdie, you’ll get it one day.” She pats his shoulder but shakes her head at him. “Goddess, but you are hopeless.”

“I feel insulted but I am not quite sure as to why.” 

“That’s exactly the problem.”

\---

“How are you two?” Edelgard asks him and Hubert after a meeting. Both he and Ferdinand usually stay behind to help with any paperwork. 

“I am fine. Hubert?” Ferdinand is writing looking through reports as he asks, but at the prolonged silence from Hubert he looks up. 

“I am well,” Hubert says, although he is not looking at Ferdinand. He’s looking at Edelgard, and he looks… not upset, but perhaps mildly irritated? 

“Pardon me for saying so but you look bothered by something.” Hubert looks over at him this time, and to Ferdinand’s relief his expression has cleared. 

“No, but I thank you for your concern.” 

Edelgard mutters something under her breath and Hubert’s face twitches in response to whatever it is. 

Nothing else continues of note for a while, all of them quietly looking over and correcting documents and whatnot. It is once more Edelgard who breaks the silence. 

“I hear the two of you are taking tea breaks together now?”

“Yes, although I make Hubert coffee instead.”

Edelgard looks delighted by this for some reason. Her next question utterly baffles him. “You make his coffee?”

“I-- Yes?” He looks up at Hubert again, whose eyes are closed and seems to be resigning himself into having this conversation. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No, Ferdinand. I would prefer it if you kept making it.” He says. 

“Then I will.” Something warm settles in him at the thought that Hubert enjoys the coffee he makes. Accompanying this feeling is the scratching of yet another plant taking hold over him. His hand jerks at the feeling, quill snapping and ink spilling all over the report. 

“Ferdinand?” Edelgard asks him, “Are you alright?” 

Hubert is suddenly hovering over his shoulder, removing the quill from his grip and placing it down on the table. 

“Apologies.” He is used to making mistakes because of the marks at this point. The progress he had just lost irks him, though. He glares down at the paper. “I--”

“Are you sick?” Hubert asks him, “Did you get injured?” 

Ferdinand stares up at Hubert, “No, I just--”

Hubert helps --  _ forces -- _ him out of his seat. “People who are healthy do not snap quills, Ferdinand.” Hubert’s grip on his arm is tight but not painful. “I’m taking you to the infirmary.”

“I’m telling you, I’m fine!” Hubert looks surprised by his raised voice. Ferdinand sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I apologize. I am…” He shrugs a little helplessly, not wanting to say he got yet another mark. 

“You are tired,” Edelgard tells him. 

This is when Ferdinand realizes two things. One, Edelgard and Dorothea must gossip with each other about their friends. Two, Edelgard knows he isn’t tired, not to the point to where he’ll spill ink all over the place like an idiot. She knows what happened and she’s  _ covering _ for him. He’s not going to waste the excuse. 

“Yes, that must be it.” 

“Then I’ll take you to your room,” Hubert says. “It would be unfortunate if you were to faint on the way back.”

“That’s a good idea, Hubert,” Edelgard says and the both of them look at each other. Ferdinand looks back and forth between them. Edelgard looks pleased and Hubert is, well, Hubert. 

Not much to say there. 

“That’s not necessary.” Ferdinand tries--

“I don’t care.”-- And apparently he fails. 

“If you insist.” He says, perplexed by Hubert’s apparent need to walk him. “Should I clean this up before we leave?”

“No, I’ll handle it. Get some rest, Ferdinand.” She gives Hubert a pointed look before turning to organize papers. 

Hubert’s hand falls from his wrist and they leave the war table for his room. 

“I want to note that I would feel better if Manuela looked you over.” 

“I am fine. It is as Edelgard said, I am just tired.”

Hubert looks dubious and Ferdinand wishes he hadn’t said that. He is horrible at lying. 

“I find it hard to believe that you are that exhausted.”

“Uhm… I am?”  _ Could that have possibly been less convincing? _ He wants to smack himself. 

They are in front of his room and Ferdinand has never been so grateful to escape into it. No one would believe a lie he told, but Hubert is practically a human lie detector.

He goes to open the door when Hubert’s hand on his wrist stops him. 

“Why are you lying to me?” He demands. “If there is something wrong I should know. I care about you a great deal, Ferdinand.”

“I…” He drops his hand from his door handle and faces Hubert. “It’s nothing bad. It’s just… It’s not something I like talking about. I have…” _ Too many,  _ “... A lot of flower marks. I got one and surprised me, thus the mess.”

“Oh.” Hubert lets him go, brows furrowed. “You get them often?”

“Unfortunately.”

“I see.” He looks contemplative. “Hmm. Yes, I see now.” He gives Ferdinand a smile before stepping back. “Still, you should get some rest, Ferdie.”

“I suppose it won’t hurt me.” Hubert’s behavior can be confusing, even to Ferdinand. “You are not… going to ask to see them.”

“No,” Hubert says simply. “If you had wanted to show me, you would have offered.”

“Oh.” Affection floods him. “Thank you, Hubert. Truly.”

“Anything for you.” Ferdinand isn’t quite sure how to respond to that, so he feels a little relieved when Hubert departs right after he says it. 

\---

It is white ivy, curling around his arm and up to his shoulder. Anxious to please, wanting to make Hubert’s coffee perfect. 

\---

  
  


“May I ask how many you have?” Hubert asks over a sip of coffee. 

Ferdinand’s arm had itched the entire time he had made it. 

_ I stopped counting when I got to 20. _

“I’m not sure.” He tells Hubert. “After I got so many, it seemed pointless to keep track.”

“Hmm.”

“Do you have any?”

“A few.” Hubert says. “They are very special to me.”

“I have some I am partial to.” There is a magnolia on his left shoulder. He likes the imagery of it, the responsibility of being a noble sitting upon his shoulders. Very poetic. There are daffodils littered across his back, like his freckles. He likes those too, they make him happy. 

“I am glad you like some of them,” Hubert tells him, something in his eyes Ferdinand can’t place. “It would be much worse if you hated all of them. Still, you have my condolences.” 

Ferdinand looks around them, a garden full of flowers. The sight makes him a little nauseous. “I appreciate that, Hubert.”

\---

The next day they drink somewhere else, where there are no bushes full of petals, no colorful plants that feel like they are suffocating Ferdinand. 

It was Hubert’s idea. He said he had wanted a change in scenery. 

Ferdinand’s heart does a funny thing in his chest. 

Maybe he  _ is _ getting sick.

\---

His father dies and what he had done to Hrym is revealed. 

He gets a red dahlia, the roots of betrayal feel like they grow into his ribs and stab unto his lungs. He has a hard time breathing for a couple days.

Hubert visits him and brings him tea. Bitter tea, tea that is as far away from the scent of flowers that it could possibly be. 

\---

It hits him, suddenly and out of nowhere and he feels like an idiot. 

He loves Hubert. 

Along with this epiphany, he gets a couple of new additions. 

Jasmine entwining cloves. They are all centered around one, located atop his heart. A red rose. Unconditional, undying love that revolves around a single, beautiful rose.

He cannot bring himself to hate them.

Even though he knows Hubert doesn’t love him back, the sight of how he feels gives him peace. 

\---

Nothing changes after that. 

He does not make some sort of confession.

\---

And in the end, nothing really massive happens. 

There is no battle, no fatal injuries that reveal his secret. No accident that forces him to come clean. 

They’re back in the conference room. He, Hubert and Edelgard are once again looking over papers. 

Being around Hubert feels different now, but not in a bad way. Before it had been easy, companionable silences along with pleasant conversation. The countless flowers he has on him proves just how easy being with Hubert had been. Now it is just the same, except Ferdinand is even happier to see the other man. 

Perhaps this is why Edelgard speaks up and says, “I’m retiring early today.” She gives Hubert a look. “I trust that you two can finish these?”

“Of course! Hubert and I make an exceptional team.”

“Indeed.” 

She leaves, with one more look at Hubert and then they are alone. 

“Ferdinand.”

He looks up at the sound of his name. Hubert is standing next to him, much like before when he had snapped his quill. 

“Hubert?” 

Hubert sits down in the chair next to him and grabs one of his hands in both of his. Ferdinand’s breathing hitches and he can’t take his eyes off of Hubert.

“Something has changed with you recently.” Hubert begins, shushing Ferdinand when he opens his mouth. “I am glad for it. You have been more… receptive of me. I was worried that you were either completely dense or just teasing me.”

Ferdinand’s mouth runs dry. “I-- What?”

“I have been trying to…” Hubert seems to struggle with his words. “Court you. But you have been  _ maddeningly _ unresponsive. Dorothea told me to continue and Lady Edelgard has been pushing me to just tell you for months.”

“You--  _ Months? _ ”

“Oh, so you  _ are _ completely dense.” Hubert huffs out a laugh and his thumbs stroke Ferdinand’s hand. “I am in love with you, you fool.”

“But I--Dear Goddess.” He has been an idiot. A buffoon. What does Hubert see in him? “I cannot believe how dense I am. Kill me.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to say no as I am rather attached to you.”

Ferdinand groans into his hand, covering his face. “Kill me out of mercy. I am unbearably embarrassed.”

“Mm.” Ferdinand feels one of Hubert’s legs hook the legs of his chair and he is pulled closer. “Does that mean you accept?”

“Of course! I-- I have truly made of mess of this. I didn’t even realize my own feelings until a few weeks ago. Oh dear…”

“I wish I could say I was surprised,” Hubert tells him, leaning in. “You were sending me mixed signals, it was infuriating.”

“I am grateful you stuck with me.”

“As am I.” The kiss Hubert gives him is gentle, hands still holding his own gently. He leans back after a couple seconds, eyes opening. “Lady Edelgard commanded me to tell you tonight.”

“That’s why she left?”

“Yes. She has been very patient waiting for you.” Hubert tilts his head. " _ I _ have been extremely patient waiting for you."

“Ugh. I will never live this down.”

“It will make for an amusing wedding story.”

“Wedding--? Hubert!”

\---

It is a couple months later when Ferdinand brings it up. He turns around in bed to face Hubert. “You never asked to see the marks.”

“It is not my place.” Hubert responds, thumb rubbing Ferdiand’s hip. “They are yours to share.”

“I want to.” Ferdinand sits up quickly. “Please, I want to-- I want to be open. I don’t want to hide things from you, Hubie.”

Hubert’s free hand finds the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder. “Don’t force yourself to.”

“I want to.” He repeats, gently shrugging his hand off and starts unbuttoning his shirt with shaking hands. He is stopped when Hubert reaches for his shirt, looking at him. 

“Allow me?” 

Ferdinand, not trusting his mouth, nods. 

Hubert smiles at him, a small quirk of his lips, and finished unbuttoning Ferdiand’s shirt, slowly helping him out of it. Ferdinand’s breathing picks up as Hubert looks over his chest, at all the flowers, all of his feelings are laid bare. 

“You may recall that I told you I had a few,” Hubert says, hands ghosting over the rose and jasmine, brushing auburn hair out of the way. “I would like to show you.”

“Yes. Of course.” 

Hubert removes his shirt quickly. Where Ferdinand has a red rose, Hubert has a white rose, with heliotrope surrounding it. Without thinking, he reaches his shaky hands out and traces them with his fingers. Hubert shudders underneath the touch. 

“I adore you, Ferdinand. Revere you, even.” Hubert breathes, pressing Ferdinand’s hands against the rose. “I love you.” He moves his hands to the heliotropes. “I am completely and utterly devoted to you. My life is yours, sweetheart.”

“Hubert…”

“I know you feel the same.” Hubert says, pressing Ferdinand down into the bed, looming over him. “It’s written all over your body.”

“But I wish to tell you how I feel.”

“I’d much rather be kissing you, if it’s all the same to you.”

**Author's Note:**

> next on my list: Hanahaki disease
> 
> so...
> 
> Dorothea: you like Hubert?
> 
> Ferdinand: No lmao what the fuck? were friends
> 
> -a couple weeks later
> 
> Ferdinand: Holy shit i am the Gay?


End file.
